


Down for the Count

by viklikesfic (v_angelique)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Breathplay, Choking, Dom/sub, Edgeplay, Established Relationship, M/M, Mindfuck, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:06:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22320775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_angelique/pseuds/viklikesfic
Summary: “This is mine,” James murmurs in Tony’s ear, casually gripping Tony’s erection and squeezing, just the wrong side of too hard. He winces, but doesn’t complain. “Thisis mine,” James continues, his hand trailing up, resting over Tony’s throat. It’s the flesh hand, not metal, but as the pressure slowly increases, cutting off Tony’s breath, it hardly matters. Left alone in the air, his cock twitches, and he leans back into James’ hold, trusting. The hand is tight around the column of his neck, thumb and finger at his carotids. He starts to get dizzy and waits for the moment, the gasp of air just when it starts to feel like too much. His vision starts to get sparkly, going black. The moment doesn’t come.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Comments: 19
Kudos: 276
Collections: MCU Kink Bingo Round 4





	Down for the Count

**Author's Note:**

> For Y, who prompted me to go more fucked up with this idea. I think the original plan was that the choking was like, with Bucky’s dick, but it went a slightly different direction. Also for MCU Kink Bingo, prompt “Choking.”
> 
> The somnophilia tag is an approximation: I don't know of a term for that, but when unconscious rather than sleeping. It's that thing.

It’s a lifetime of kidnappings and drunken black-outs, sometimes one combined with the other, that has Tony waking very cautiously when he feels the zip of leftover adrenaline in his blood and can’t remember, at least for the first few seconds, where he is. He’s lying on his side, and a subtle flex of muscles confirms that he’s not tied to anything. He takes in a breath, and the scent of James and his own arousal plunges him into a combination of shock, excitement, and confusion. When he blinks his eyes, open, though, finding himself apparently alone in his own bed, he remembers. 

_ “Tell me what you are,” James growls, half-Soldier, kneeling behind Tony and pressed against him from shoulders to ass, his arms caging Tony’s naked body tight against him.  _

_ “Yours,” Tony murmurs without thought. They’ve been playing with the edge a lot lately, but he can’t bring himself to pull back from it—not when he’s experienced the raw intensity of James in his element, all masks of mild civility dropped, all his hunger focused tightly on Tony. That gnawing pit is deep in James, the desire to dominate and control, almost a match for how deep Tony’s found his own secret need to submit. He used to be ashamed of it, but James makes him proud. Late nights, when neither of them can sleep, they whisper fantasies, and Tony tells James what he’s willing for the other to do, all the dark fucked-up things he consents to, should James decide to take advantage. _

_ James always takes advantage. _

Tony moves slowly, gingerly, taking stock. He reaches up to touch his head, feel around his skull. No bumps to indicate concussion. But his throat is raw, his neck tender to the touch. He swallows hard, remembering.

_ “This is mine,” James murmurs in Tony’s ear, casually gripping Tony’s erection and squeezing, just the wrong side of too hard. He winces, but doesn’t complain. “ _ **_This_ ** _ is mine,” James continues, his hand trailing up, resting over Tony’s throat. It’s the flesh hand, not metal, but as the pressure slowly increases, cutting off Tony’s breath, it hardly matters. Left alone in the air, his cock twitches, and he leans back into James’ hold, trusting. The hand is tight around the column of his neck, thumb and finger at his carotids. He starts to get dizzy and waits for the moment, the gasp of air just when it starts to feel like too much. His vision starts to get sparkly, going black. The moment doesn’t come. _

He consented to it, certainly, weeks ago. As long as water wasn’t involved, James could choke him out if he desired, but this is the first time it’s actually  _ happened _ . And Tony has no sense of how much time has passed, how long he was out. He squirms a little, and his ass is just a bit sore. Had it been like that already when they’d started playing, left over from the night before? Or did James…

He inhales sharply, imagining it. The idea should turn his stomach, maybe. It definitely shouldn’t turn him on, to imagine James just taking him, unconscious, fucking him like a ragdoll and taking his own pleasure. It  _ shouldn’t _ … 

Tony reaches back, strokes his fingers at his asshole. The skin feels slick, but not obviously inflamed. He thinks James couldn’t have really fucked him, in the time he was unconscious, and Tony not be able to tell. But how long  _ was _ he out? He remembers another night, another fantasy shared. 

_ “You could drug me,” Tony whispers, grinding his cock against James’ thigh under the sheets. James is silent, his eyes hard. Every minute he doesn’t speak urges Tony instinctively to babble a bit more, to share a bit more. It’s an obvious tactic, but James spent an hour edging him earlier, and Tony’s past the ability to be strategic. “You could drop a roofie in my drink, and take me when I’m all loose and stupid,” he gasps, the friction chafing but still impossible to resist. “I would… oh God… James, please, I need…” _

_ “No.” _

_ The man is intractable, and Tony just keeps spilling every naughty thought in his head, everything he can think of until James gives him permission to come. _

Fuck. Did he? Could he have? Tony’s not hard, but he doesn’t know if he went soft when his brain lost oxygen, or if he actually might’ve come without being awake for it. There’s no semen on his skin, but James could have wiped him down. Tony groans and twists a little, propping himself up on one arm. The man in question he finds standing in the doorway, his gaze cold but fixed on Tony. Tony’s blood runs hot, and he swallows. The pain doesn’t help matters. 

“What did you…” Tony trails off, because James is stalking towards him, still fully clothed, still wearing what he was earlier. That doesn’t necessarily mean anything, but he stops speculating when James reaches the bed, knocks him back. 

“Exactly what I wanted,” James responds, calm, pinning Tony in place with a metal palm on his chest. Tony licks his lips. “Do you like that? You don’t know, do you?” He smirks. “It could’ve been anything, Antoshka. Don’t you care?” His hair’s falling in his eyes, his demeanor still so casual, and Tony realizes the answer even as he says it.

“No.” 

James smiles with something like pride, and Tony strains up as he bends down for a kiss.


End file.
